Page 49 of Corrupting Lily

“Is it what you wanted?” Her whiskey-brown eyes meet mine briefly before she heads toward a picture on the mantle.

“To kill him or to become Don?” I ask, her eyes meeting mine pointedly before she says, “Both.”

“I wanted to kill him. Especially that day. He had been drinking and was calling my mother a whore, which isn’t something new. But then he tried forcing himself on her in front of me and Mia. I couldn’t take a minute more. So yes. I wanted to kill him. As for being Don, it is what I know and what I am good at.” That was the best answer I could give. I was raised in the mafia, and with a father I was constantly on edge with, it left little room for dreams. That was beaten out of me. So perhaps there was a time I dreamt of doing something other than this. But when my hands were bloodied with my father's life force, it was over. I was officially part of the mafia.

"And Mia, how did she feel about you killing her father?" I often wondered this, but Mia reassured me that she held no grudge against me.

"When my mother finally gave birth to Mia, the daughter my father had longed for in my place, she was treated better than any of us were. But she had eyes and she saw the abuse. While he didn't do anything to her, he still managed to fuck her up, leaving her feeling guilty for what my mother and I went through. So when that moment came and I killed him, I think she felt relieved. It changed everything for all of us."

“What kind of woman was your mother?” she asks, picking up the picture as she examines it closely. It was one of the few family portraits we had. I should throw them all out, especially the ones of my father, but this was our history. As much as I didn’t like it, this was my past.It made me who I am today.

“She was a flower. Gentle and delicate and too good for my father. Like Mia. Like you.” She nods but doesn’t look at me, the somewhat open and carefree Lily from days ago now hiding. She is being careful with me. With what she says. With how she acts or reacts.

“Why did she marry your father then? Did they love each other?”

“It was an arranged marriage. But yes, I think they did love each other in the beginning. In a way.” My mother would often tell me about how they had been before I was born, her reminiscing reminding me that I was the one who changed that. I don’t think she intended for it to be that way; I believe she just didn’t realize how hurtful it was. That’s when I decided to build walls. Walls to shield me from her words and his actions, so they couldn’t hurt me anymore. It made navigating this life easier, being detached.

That’s when it snaps into place. Lily was feeling hurt. That’s why she was withdrawing from me.

“You’re hurt about something, what is it?” Her gaze snaps to mine, and her eyes flare with surprise, the first genuine emotion I have seen since the jet.

“Nothing. I’m not hurt. I would have to have feelings about something in order to feel that emotion, and I don’t.” She turns away from me. Hiding. Lying.

I stalk up to her and turn her around to face me so I can see the emotions she doesn’t want me to see. Her eyes widen as she squares her shoulders and looks up at me.

“Are you telling me that you have no feelings for me?” I take the photograph she is squeezing tightly in her hand and place it on the mantel behind her.

When she doesn’t answer, I close the distance between us, my body forcing her backwards. When her back hits the piece of furniture, theornaments and frames jiggle, some even falling over.

With no space between us, I circle her neck with my hand, her eyes closing briefly before flying back open.

“You have no feelings for me, yet every cell in your body wants me. I know your feelings because they mirror mine.” It is true. Lily is falling in love with me, and I am falling in love with her. That is why she will soon be mine officially. Why is she resisting this?

“Impossible,” she whispers, the emotion behind her words telling me more than the word itself. It is true.

“I don’t feel anything. I’m marrying you because I have to.” Stubborn. She is infuriatingly stubborn, but then so am I.

“Is that right?” I murmur, leaning close to her ear so that I can feel the shiver that racks her body. At least it didn’t lie.

“Ahhh, Dominico, there you are.” Lily squints at the female intruder standing at the drawing room door.

Here we go. If I could count on one of her emotions to reveal the truth, it would be the one she couldn’t control.

“If that’s the case, and you have no feelings for me whatsoever, then I suppose I’ll marry someone else,” I say quietly, releasing her suddenly and moving back.

I stalk toward the door where a bewildered Sam stands.

“Dominico, what's happening?” Sam asks, her face pale with shock as she looks between us.

“We’re getting married,” I say to her, smirking when I think about how this will play out.

“Um, I know. That’s why I’m here.”

“No, I mean,we’regetting married,” I emphasize, turning around to face Lily as I lace my hand through Sam’s.

Lily stares at us, her face a blank mask. But it's not her face that gives her away.

It’s the tight little fists at her side.

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